


Do(n't) Think of Him

by Stumbling-While-Balancing (Rellanka)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blatant Use of a Popular Trope, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pining James Griffin, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:51:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rellanka/pseuds/Stumbling-While-Balancing
Summary: James totally doesn't think of Keith all the time. Totally.Spoilers for Season 7.





	Do(n't) Think of Him

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp, I'm late but here's another Jaith drabble for you! Hope you enjoy.

James frowned determinedly as he stalked toward the rebel base communal showers. Fuck what Rizavi said, he did not talk about Keith all the time. He didn’t even think about Keith all the time! In fact, as of right now, he was going to stop thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-thought-of altogether. 

To amuse himself, he pictured a scoreboard in his mind, reminiscent of the ones that stores had to record the time between workplace incidents, and started a mental timer on it. 

He was having a lovely time for the rest of his walk, musing absent mindedly about updates to his MFE, when he entered the shower locker room and ran abruptly into the person he pointedly was not thinking about. 

His mental process while his brain rebooted from where it crashed at the sight in front of him went like thus: Towel. Wet. Skin. Abs. Legs. Hair. EYES!!! ~~Staring right back at him! _(Shit, they were so pretty...)_~~

While James had had the good luck to have remained standing ( _Was he standing? Really?_ he wondered dazedly as all the blood in his brain flooded his face and his…. well. Never mind what else. _He couldn’t feel his legs._ ) Keith had fallen to the floor in an untidy sprawl, all his usual cat-like grace having abandoned him for the moment. 

The only thing currently preserving Keith’s modesty was a small corner of the towel that was still draped over his lap. James cursed and blessed that corner. (Then cursed the part of him that desperately wanted that corner gone.)

James honestly couldn’t tell you how long they stayed frozen like that, staring at each other speechlessly in the silence of the locker room while a tap dripped somewhere in the background. 

It felt like an eternity. 

Finally, Keith’s face began to turn red, and James’ eyes unwillingly traced the path of the blush from Keith’s face, to his neck, to half-way down Keith’s chest before Keith was jerking himself up and escaping out the locker room door with a quickly muttered (farewell? apology? angry exclamation? embarrassed exclamation? James just didn’t know. All the blood flooding his face was throwing off his hearing.)

Once Keith was fully gone, James groaned and collapsed to the floor himself, hitting his head back against the bench behind him.

He mentally reset the timer on his mental scoreboard. It had been 0.000000 seconds since he had last thought of Keith. 

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to be getting much higher than that count for awhile.

**End.**


End file.
